Always the Vampire

Melda waved a hand. “Oh, yes. We’ve taken to coming by every night since this poor young man was attacked.”


“Want to do our part to help the Princess, don’t you know,” Clarence added. “Any friend of hers and all that. That’s a lovely sundress, by the by, Princess. Isn’t it, Melda? Puts me in mind of one you wore to a dance many years ago. Yours was white, though, with sunflowers.”

I elbowed Triton. Thank them for checking on you.

“What? Oh, yes, I appreciate you watching out for me. Very kind.”

“Pish posh, it’s nothing,” Melda said. “I just hope your business is concluded swiftly.”

I blinked. “Our business, Mrs. Clarke?”

“Why yes, dear. We’ll never get our bed and breakfast off the ground if vampires fear coming to Florida.”

Clarence nodded solemnly. “We’re rooting for you and Mr. Saber; we’ll look forward to your visit whenever you have the time to call on us. Come along, now, Melda. We want to look at that new batch of listings in Deland.”

Saber, Triton, and I exchanged bemused glances.

“Those two are a trip,” Triton said softly, “but I’m glad Lynn’s not staying with them.”

“Because you’d be more tempted to go see her?”

“No, because she’d be doing another case study. An extended one.”

With Melda and Clarence on the job, Triton’s property was likely safe, but we went inside his apartment anyway, just to be sure nothing waited in ambush. When all was clear, Saber and I headed home at last.

Snowball launched herself into Saber’s arms the moment we entered the cottage, and this time the object of her affection fed and watered her.

I set the alarms then headed to the bedroom. My sundress came off, my St. Augustine lighthouse sleep shirt went on, and I padded back to the living room. Snowball batted a catnip-filled toy around the bamboo floor, while Saber had parked himself on the sofa to watch college football scores and highlights on ESPN. His eyes might’ve been glued to the TV, but he patted the cushion when I neared.

“I’m catching the scores to unwind.”

“Did the Gators and ’Noles win their games?” I asked as I sat beside him and propped my feet on the coffee table.

“Gators won big, ’Noles won in a squeaker over the ’Canes.”

“Did your alma mater win, too?”

He grinned, gave me the Hook ’Em Horns sign, and linked his fingers through mine. The sportscaster ran down another list of stats before Saber canted his head at me.

“What?”

“Are you reading my thoughts?”

“No, your nervous energy. Are you worried about the chances of Starrack showing up at the Greek festival of Friday night?”

“Yes, but that’s nearly a week away so I’m putting that worry on the back burner. Right now I just want to know if everything is ready for the couples shower tomorrow.”

“Tents, tables, and chairs were delivered on time and set up, and Lynn helped me slice onions and tomatoes for the burgers.”

“Considering she has hair to kill for, Lynn’s growing on me.”

With a flash of his sexy grin, Saber turned to face me. “Honey, when a man runs his hands through straight hair, there is no surprise, no intrigue. But when I do this—”

The pulses in my neck thundered and my mouth went dry as he cupped first one cheek then the other in his palms, inching his fingertips into the thick strands at my temples.

“This is my idea of riding the waves and shooting the curls.” He brushed his lips over mine. “Every last lock of your hair is a sensual adventure.”

I gulped and whispered, “You feel like surfing about now?”

He answered with a long, deep kiss, and when we finally slept, it was with a lock of my hair wound around Saber’s wrist.





My honey’s comment about my waves and curls notwithstanding, I flatironed and gooped my hair as straight as possible for the barbeque on Sunday. Guests meeting a vampire hostess was one thing. Meeting one with scary hair was another. I was taking no chances with the success of this party.

The event soon proved a finger-lickin’ success. The weather cooperated with even a hint of fall in the air. Saber cooked the meats and veggies to perfection on the new grill he’d bought as his own housewarming gift. And though the guests were Neil’s friends and colleagues, they and their spouses were open and friendly with Saber and me, and with each other.

Most of the women gathered under the tents to talk and eat with Maggie. Most of the men ate in the house to watch the Jacksonville Jaguars football game. Most of the gifts, when they were opened at halftime, were hardware store gift cards, so Maggie and Neil didn’t have an ordeal loading their haul.

Saber and I cleaned up the mess quickly, sorted the recycling from the trash, and in no time we were ready to change from our party clothes to our training uniforms of shorts and T-shirts.